


College Kids with Kwamis

by Cminer_writer



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), All the love-square ships are here, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, But I think itll be worth it, ENJOY!!!, Eventual Smut, Everyone Gets a Miraculous™, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm excited to start this journey with yall, IT TOOK 13 K WORDS JUST TO GET THEM THEIR MIRACULOUS, Multi, THIS IS GONNA BE A LONGASS FIC, barista!marinette, but not alot I hate meaningless angst, everyone is aged up, glasses!Adrien, i wondered what would happen if the miraculous plot happened on a university campus instead of paris, since its a college au, so I hope you like it as much as I like writing it, this started as a one-shot of a drunk marinette ogling adrien and it has grown into so much more, year 2022 to stay canon-compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-07 12:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20309677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cminer_writer/pseuds/Cminer_writer
Summary: “I need stress, anger and fear to create my akumas, Nooroo.And what better place to find those negative emotions…than on a university campus?”Once more the time has come for the black cat and ladybug to rise, bringing justice and peace.The lives of their fellow students, and the fate of the world itself, lies in the hands of these chosen young people.…If only they can make it through midterms first.AKA, a Miraculous College AU set in the United States, with frat parties, fencing, coffee shops, emotional support kwamis, fashion shows, rock concerts, homework, late-night akuma attacks, 21st birthdays, self-discovery, secrets and revelations, crushes, first times, and all the shenanigans a bunch of sleep-deprived college students could possibly get into.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The scene that started it all, in which a drunk Marinette gets to ogle her crush shamelessly. \\(^o^)/  
Also includes Adrien borrowing an umbrella, and Nathaniel's hair is amazing.

Marinette could feel the alcohol pounding in her head as she emerged from the stairwell of Lambda Alpha Theta, footsteps wobbling a little as she walked into the common room? Is that what this was? that featured two rather ugly pleather couches facing each other with a coffee table in the middle. She knew, objectively, the room was actually rather dimly lit yellow, but it throbbed in her eyes and her ears and she realized that ok, _maybe_ she should have laid off the Bacardi a little…or ok, maybe _a lot._

The problem was, she really liked rum, even just straight, but especially (as she had discovered this evening) mixed with fruit juice cocktail, which is what her generous new friend had been mixing.

The friend, Alya, was a sophomore, like herself, who Marinette actually knew from her freshman year and even from a few years of high school in their adorable little town, where she was embarrassingly enrolled in only a few public-school classes in a last-ditch effort to create some semblance of a social life for her thus far, friend-deprived and sheltered homeschooled life. Ugh. Terribly sheltered. She prided herself on not being naïve, per say, but that hadn’t stopped her from being incredibly innocent. And thus, incredibly awkward.

Nevertheless, Marinette had shared some classes with Alya and they had been on friendly terms. And now they both attended the same sprawling research university nestled in the woods of southern Virginia.

Alya was a year younger than her, but they were both in the same class thanks to Marinette’s gap year for a fashion internship that had ended far sooner than planned and had seen her right back at home, lost and uncertain and realizing she might actually want to attend university after all.

By a really lucky stroke of luck, Francois Dupont University was still accepting applications in April of all things, and still giving the same scholarships for academic success they were giving in the fall, and Marinette applied, and got in (which she optimistically expected), and got the second-highest scholarship (which she optimistically hoped) and so it was that three months before classes began Marinette found herself an incoming freshman for the class of 2025.

She had honestly thought the fashion industry was going to be for her. The internship had been the result of lots of online googling, and emailing, and then she had received an response back from Pizazz Collections, an offer to work as an assistant to the head designer in one of their satellite stores.

Marinette had jumped at the opportunity, but after about a month she realized rather depressingly that she had not cared about fashion nearly as much as she thought she did. The internship was more like an enslavement- to an impossible to please, ridiculously demanding, incredibly demeaning designer that left Marinette frazzled, choked with constant anxiety, and ridiculously self-conscious with self-esteem that crumpled smaller each day.

Three months into her 10-month internship, she had had enough, and called her parents, and packed up her boxes from the small above-shop apartment, and left the minute her two weeks’ notice were up.

But back to the present.

Alya, her kind of friend from her kind of high school who she had only chatted with a few times during the whole course of her freshman year, and seen once at only one party, had a room on the same floor of her hall, sharing a room with a girl that Marinette didn’t know very well and that it seemed Alya didn’t know well either.

Meanwhile, Marinette’s roommate was an introverted Art major who as had gone to her very first party as a sophomore the previous year with Marinette. And thus, Marinette had planned not to ask Mylene about attending Syllabus Eve, the unholy gathering of inebriated students the Sunday night before the start of classes.

Why this was a tradition, Marinette would never know. She hadn’t gone her freshman year and she hadn’t planned on going this year either, until she and Alya had struck up a conversation while Mylene was busy elsewhere and they both realized the other wanted to go.

Marinette really, really was not trying to be a partier, but she did love dancing and, if she was being horribly honest, drinking as well, and Alya was just the sort of fun but trustworthy person she was comfortable going with.

She had told Mylene, a bit shame-faced, and Mylene had given her one of those pained expressions that was also an almost-judgement on Marinette but not quite, and Marinette had grabbed her black tight jeans and red tube tank and jetted with an apologetic smile cast her roommate’s way to Alya’s room, where she and her new party-buddy dressed and did their makeup and joked together happily with excited and nervous anticipation hovering over their conversation.

When Alya triumphantly displayed the well-obtained Bacardi, Marinette had felt the eager hum in her stomach grow, because she really _liked_ rum. After a practice sample she decided it was even more perfectly delicious mixed with fruit cocktail.

The rum was entirely illegal for the girls, who were still underage, and even once turned 21 they would only be allowed wine or beer in their rooms, so Marinette was quite impressed with the acquisition and with a quick dash out to her car and back, offered her bottle of raspberry vodka to the mix.

Alya was delighted with the vodka, Marinette was delighted with the rum, and after a few deep swallows (to her companion’s surprised amusement) and two tumblers filled and mixed, the girls set off into the warm rain-scented September air.

Other laughing young people stumbled around them in the evening twilight, lit only by the glow of the frat doors when they opened and the few torches that lined the sidewalk leading up.

Marinette already felt the warm hum of alcohol in her face and her smile, and linking hands with Alya they sauntered up to the front door of Lambda.

Three hours later and with her tumbler drained, Marinette reflected that it had been, actually, a really fun night, and she had even had her first grinding sort of dance, which she blamed entirely on the alcohol but wasn’t really complaining.

Though when the boy (she embarrassingly couldn’t even remember his face) had grabbed her hand seeming intent on leading her away she laughed, and shimmied out of his grasp to dance with some other girls. She still felt impressed with herself though, a pride that mingled with the resigned shame that she was experiencing her first drunken grinding as a 20-year-old sophomore. Oof.

Now however, it was 1:00 a.m. and she was a bit too wobbly to stare at her phone screen for long (she distantly observed that she was still in possession of the device and congratulated herself accordingly) and, she remembered belatedly as she swayed up the stairs past a short frat boy who gave her an amused and knowing expression, she didn’t even have Alya’s number.

She had wanted to ask, but then felt embarrassed, and had then forgotten, and so she was here now, emerging from the stairs, head pounding and eyes throbbing, feeling probably too warm and loose for her own good and desperately needing to just sit down.

The dim-that-was-still-too-bright ceiling lights revealed two girls and a boy Marinette didn’t recognize on the couch farthest from her, a red solo cup sitting on the floor near them and two empty ones littering the coffee table. Marinette observed them grudgingly and thought that she didn’t want to sit on the couch opposite the snickering threesome, all by herself, and that’s when her gaze swung to the left and she saw _him_.

He was sitting on the ground in the corner of the wall, almost behind and beside the couch, head tipped back against the ugly beige paint and eyes closed, one arm hanging across his stomach and the other splayed on the floor beside him, legs stretched out in a possible drunken stupor.

Marinette felt a pleasant hot throbbing in her chest at the sight of him and felt herself smiling, making a satisfied hum and honestly, that was a bit too eager for her to be doing, wasn’t it? She didn’t feel any of the shyness she would have normally and she let her gaze swoop over Adrien Agreste’s long and lanky body in uninhibited appreciation.

She didn’t think twice as she made her way over to him, clumsily almost-tripping over his legs as she slid down, back against the couch arm rest facing him, enough room that they didn’t touch till she brought her legs in Indian-style and one knee bumped against his calf.

Marinette congratulated herself once she slid ungracefully down, both in drunken happiness that she was sitting across from Adrien Agreste, and objectively that this was actually a nice and almost secluded location, with the couch armrest shielding her from view. There was enough room between her and the wall that she could have stretched her legs out and just touched it.

Adrien’s eyes remained closed and Marinette was inwardly cheering as it gave her the chance to ogle the boy unobserved, which was something she would have never let herself do if the dampening heat of liquor wasn’t already in her veins. This being because, in a regular scenario, just observing Adrien for more than a few seconds would begin a warm tingling all over her in a very distracting way.

Now, that warm tingling just pulsed inside her alongside the alcohol’s heat and she crossed her arms, cocking her head to better stare at him, and hummed appreciatively to herself again.

He was wearing a dark blue V-neck T-shirt, which showed off a nice tan that was entirely too unfair for someone with his shade of pale hair to have. Sperry loafers covered feet resting to the left of her butt.

_Very frat,_ _but not bad looking…Uuhhmmmm_…

The “mmm” being the part where in a sober state she would have told herself “Marinette stop staring, ok good, now ignore the hotness, thank you, good girl” but now she felt only light headed and appreciative, trailing her gaze past the boat shoes to long, tanned legs covered in pale hair, to khaki shorts and _oh_, was that a bit of _hipbone_ peeking out?

Marinette drew in a quick breath as a new spurt of non-alcohol-induced heat bloomed in her stomach.

But, yes, Adrien was very hot, and it was making her face hot, and chest hot, even hotter than she was before and that seemed impossible but also entirely what was happening.

She took in the arms which the T-shirt did a fabulous job of showing off, muscled but in a lean sort of way, and a collarbone she imagined would taste a lot like sweat and beer…She tore her eyes away for a moment because suddenly the urge to lick Adrien was entirely too strong and really, she couldn’t just jump a sleeping boy no matter how gorgeous he was.

Finally, she gave his very attractive face her full attention- angular jaw framed with unruly blond wavy hair, pink lips parted unconsciously that made her heart stutter a little (_No molesting sleeping people, Marinette, haven’t you heard of a little thing called consent, gosh!) _and black circle glasses that probably would have made anyone else look predictably dorky, but on Adrien’s face just made him look very cute.

However, cutting through the enjoyment of her staring was Marinette’s growing question of why Adrien was sitting here, alone. She remembered grumpily that she had hardly ever seen Adrien without the petite, beautiful blond girl that was most likely and probably his girlfriend and whose name Marinette still didn’t really know. Whoops.

Marinette wondered now where the girlfriend was, almost slouching as she grouched jealously inward, even though another part of her argued with an impressive display of sober intelligence that quite reasonably, after a whole year there was a very good chance that Adrien and Pretty Blond Girl were not even dating anymore.

This thought cheered Marinette right up, and so with a grin she leaned towards him (a tad unsteadily) and poked his thigh with her left hand. She tried unsuccessfully not to think about laying her hand flat against his leg, or sliding it upwards…

Adrien sort of quietly groaned as he opened his eyes and blinked, unseeing, before yawning and rubbing his face, pushing himself more upright against the wall as his eyes focused onto Marinette.

She quite appreciated his green-eyed stare, directed at her, which had really never happened before, and the rum in her veins made her blurt, “You probably don’t know me,” before yawning herself (Marinette was entirely too susceptible to the contagiousness of yawns).

“Uh…okay.” Adrien said slowly. “What…makes you think that?” He added, almost an afterthought.

“Well, you know, obviously I know you, well not like I _know_ know you, obviously, but I know of you, y’know, with your dad and everything…” Marinette trailed off, realizing even in her drunken haze she had said the word _know_ about five times too many. She giggled. “Anyways, I’m Marinette.”

“Ok,” Adrien said again, a little wrinkle between his brows. Marinette felt her heart squeeze. _Gosh I’m even more of a rambler when I’m drunk. _She giggled again.

“What…what’s funny?”

“Oh,” Marinette lolled her head, a stupid grin on her face. “I’m just so drunk, and giggly…I’m a giggly drunk!” She realized this distantly but babbled on. “I think I should be more embarrassed…but I’m not. Uhmm, and that might definitely be because I’ve drunken…” she paused. “Drank? Dranken? Drunked? Yeah that’s what I am, I’m drunked.” She laughed at her stupid joke, still grinning.

Adrien’s lips quirked. “Are you always this…silly?”

“Uhh…” she said after a moment, as her sluggish brain processed the question, realizing she hadn’t responded yet, still staring at Adrien’s amused face. “Well, with my luck…I’m probably even stupider…sober,” she decided with a nod.

“That can’t be true,” Adrien said, giving her a soft smile as his eyes stuttered closed again.

Marinette’s heart completely melted.

She couldn’t keep herself from asking, “So where is that blond, pretty girl?”

His eyes cracked open. “Who?”

“Well, it’s that girl…pretty, blond?” Adrien didn’t give any sign of recognition so Marinette babbled on, “Yeah, very pretty…who is always glued to your side…or at least, she was all last year,” Marinette amended.

“Oh! That would be Chloe. Childhood friend,” Adrien shrugged.

“And also…girlfriend?”

“Ah, what? No,” Adrien chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound, and Marinette thought she could die now, happy, having heard that laugh from Adrien and directed at her, no less. 

Marinette spent a moment appreciating how pink Adrien’s lips were and how nice they looked when they were smiling at her. She imagined crawling over next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, leaning in to kiss those lips…

Marinette giggled again at how she was thinking about kissing Adrien Agreste without her brain screaming at her. It was nice. She should try being drunk around cute boys more often.

“…and so, naturally we both had to attend the same tiny college,” Adrien was saying wryly. “But she started dating her best girlfriend Sabrina…huh I guess it’s her actual girlfriend now, huh…anyway, this summer, so I don’t think she’ll be needing me for emotional support as much this year.”

Marinette heard this information without really processing it, but she did notice Adrien looked almost…sad, actually. She tried to think of any times she had seen him without blond…ahem, Chloe, and was struggling to remember anything. She looked at him now, wearing a sort of resigned expression, and Marinette wondered with surprise, _Is he lonely?_

She didn’t really think as she scooted forward on hands and knees to prop herself on the wall next to Adrien, leaning her head on his shoulder in an uninhibited and completely alcohol-fueled way.

She felt him stiffen for a moment beneath her, but then he let out a soft breath and she curled up her knees under her, getting more comfortable.

“You have…other friends though?” she asked, staring at the veins in his hand where it rested across his stomach.

“Yeah, of course, what makes you say that?” he said, almost defensively, but she could feel the droop in his shoulders.

She hummed thoughtfully. “Well you _definitely_ have more than I do.”

“You seem like someone who should have plenty of friends,” Adrien said with complete confidence.

“Oh, I think I could have lots, if I tried…I’m just very good at meeting new people and very bad at getting close to them…maintaining friendship, is not my best…thing, really,” Marinette admitted, putting a good effort into thinking, focusing on the words.

Adrien grunted. “Huh. Well, it must be nice for you, if meeting new people is the easiest. But uh, I don’t think you should be scared of letting people get close, um…I think you’re a girl lots of people would want for a friend.”

Marinette lifted her head and pushed herself up a bit to look at Adrien. The room went kind of spinny and she thought she might have moved a _bit _too fast. He had a very serious expression, and she felt her gaze travel to his lips again, and she thought it wouldn’t be too much trouble at all to lean, slowly, and just brush her lips against his.

She closed her eyes and felt herself tipping forward…

And slumped spinelessly into Adrien’s lap as a wave of nausea shuddered through her.

“Euueghhhh,” she groaned.

“Um,” she heard Adrien say, though it sounded like it was coming from much farther away.

“I think…I think I’m in the get sick…or get sleepy stage,” she mumbled.

She felt so, so tired, and Adrien’s lap felt so, so comfortable. She closed her eyes and turned herself into a more comfortable position.

_I’m… I’m just going to sleep here…sleep…good…now._

She didn’t hear what Adrien said, but she felt a hand rest, gently, on her waist.

**...**

“Shit, oh my gosh, is that Marinette. Oh gurrrl.”

“Hi, yeah, I think she just…fell asleep…on me?”

“I’m honestly surprised that she’s like this.” A laugh. “I don’t think she drank that much at all…what a lightweight.” … “You’re Adrien, right?” … “Yeah our dorm is Lynn, it’s not far at all.”

“Ok, help me get her up?”

Marinette felt hands trying to pull her into a sitting position and she groaned, grabbing in resistance at the warm surface she was laying on. She felt it rumble underneath it. A chuckle.

“Uh, Marinette, you can let go of me now.”

Another pained groan as she was pulled into a seated position. A blurry face appeared before her. “Alya?”

“Hey sleepy head, we’re heading home now. I don’t think Adrien appreciates being used as a pillow all night, girl.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien? Said from beside her.

“Ok, Marinette, I’m helping you stand up now, alright?”

“Don’t wanna…wanna sleep,” Marinette mumbled grumpily. Her head was hurting now and she was so _tired _and there was a perfectly good bed here anyways? Why was she being forced to move?

“Here, let me help.”

Marinette was lifted up gracelessly by two strong hands. She half stood, half slumped against the body beside her, and wrapped her arms around in a vise to hold herself up. _Ugh_, why wasn’t she lying down, _asleep_?

“Ok, c’mon Marinette, time to let go.” An exasperated voice paired with a soft hand on her back nudging at her arms.

“You guys live in Lynn? I don’t mind helping her back.”

Marinette felt her pillar of support moving so she moved with it, stumbling. She forced herself to open her eyes again, which was just as a rectangle of black night opened before her.

_Mmm…raining?_

“Shit, uh. Here, lean against the door Marinette. I’m gonna go get an umbrella.”

Marinette was pushed against the door frame, which she grumpily exchanged as her support. The drum of steady rain cleared her mind a little, enough to appreciate the smell of the wet grass, at least.

Adrien returned a few minutes later and she gratefully leaned against him again.

They moved into the night, an umbrella unfolding above them.

With the door shut behind her it felt a lot easier to keep her eyes open, and she removed her arms, only to sway heavily before grabbing onto the arm next to her.

“Heh, easy there. You are pretty pissed, Marinette.”

Marinette remembered distantly that it was Adrien who was helping her along as they reached the street and crossed to the other sidewalk. She had enough presence of mind to slur, “t-thanks…youse.”

A chuckle. “Don’t worry about it.”

Marinette felt a sort of embarrassment but it was so far removed that the feeling slipped away before she could dwell on it.

_In the morning, _she thought.

The voice (Adrien’s voice?) continued conversationally, “I borrowed this umbrella from Alya. I guess she found someone else to walk home with. Anyways, so don’t let me forget to give it to you, ok?”

“Mmph…k.”

Marinette fumbled along beside Adrien the rest of the walk to her hall. The sound of raindrops beating on the top was entirely too soothing, and she swayed sleepily a number of times, Adrien’s competent hands keeping her from ever falling.

At her dorm, she held onto Adrien’s left arm for support while he swiped his ID and pushed the door open for them into the dimly lit foyer. The door to the girl’s hall was to the right and Adrien led her over.

“My card isn’t going to work here…where’s your ID Marinette?”

She mumbled something incoherent and a hand reached around into her right back pocket, then her left (_He’s touching my butt, _she thought stupidly, and grinned) before “Aha!” Adrien swiped her card through the door, and led her through, tucking the card back into her pocket. And then she was blindly following him up the stairs and trying not to fall, and then there was knocking and a door opened. Marinette dimly recognized Mylene, who gave a sort of half-gasp, half-groan.

“Wow… Marinette, I actually did not expect this level of foolishness. Good thing her first class isn’t until noon tomorrow.”

Marinette was still holding onto Adrien’s arm, and she leaned her head into his shoulder after a foolhardy attempt at opening her eyes that sent the whole world spinning.

“Yeah, good thing. Uh, maybe some Ibuprofen for her? And plenty of water…I’m sure you already know that.” A weak laugh, and Marinette was pried away and led stumbling to, oh blessed relief, her bed, and she slumped into it and curled up, eyes fiercely shut.

“Ok, well, I’ll see you? Uh, good night Marinette.”

And after some fighting with Mylene over a glass of water and two Advil, Marinette snuggled into her pillow and fell fast asleep.

* * *

“I hate myself, I hate my life, and I hate this class.”

Marinette groaned, earning another sympathetic look from Rose, who sat beside her in Classic Hall Room 121, as their French professor breezed in.

The latter was definitely not true, as Marinette enjoyed French and was hoping to minor in it, despite having never taken it in high school. Latin for the win, _not_.

She was also intensely grateful to be taking it with someone she knew. It was such a pleasant feeling, being a sophomore, going to classes where she already recognized some of the people…it made her feel very superior. Nice.

But she had a pounding head ache that three ibuprofens were not really helping, and a nauseous stomach she was trying to ignore, but which was unfortunately keeping her from drinking more than a few sips of her black coffee.

“Did you like Syllabus Eve?” Rose asked.

“Uhh...” Marinette paused and considered. “Actually, yeah.” She groaned. “I mean I did then, but I really don’t now. Ugh.”

“My roommate went, and she had a 9:20 class that she completely skipped. I think she’s still lying asleep in our room right now.”

“Really?” Marinette wasn’t shocked, but she was unimpressed. “The fact that my first class was at noon was a big reason why I was fine with going out. At the very least, if I had had an early class, I would’ve just laid off drinking…mostly. Missing class on the very first day seems kind of, definitely, stupid.”

Rose nodded emphatically in agreement.

They both turned as their professor welcomed the class to another semester of French. Marinette recognized a girl from last spring’s beginning French class, but other than that it was mostly unfamiliar faces.

Just then, the door opened at the back of the classroom. FDU’s French department was a respectable size, and the three stadium rows seating around 40 students reflected that.

Marinette turned in her front row seat to see the latecomer, thinking with approval _just in time_, because Dr. Kirkland had a strict no tardy policy,

Her second thought was _oh my crap_.

Because it was Adrien.

_Adrien takes French?_

She watched him place a notebook and pen from his backpack on the table before him, then look up and catch her eye.

She looked away, flaming blush engulfing her cheeks. Lovely. She didn’t remember everything from the evening before, but she was certain on her embarrassing use of Adrien’s lap as a pillow and the humiliating walk back to her dorm.

Ugh. Marinette was pretty certain her headache had just gotten ten times worse. She flopped her forehead down on her textbook and sighed.

Rose gave her a worried look. “Marinette?” she whispered.

“I’ll tell you after class.”

Marinette raised her head and risked another glance at Adrien. As their eyes met, he quirked his lips, before turning to face the professor.

Marinette felt the familiar tightening of her chest and tingling in her stomach and inwardly sighed.

_This is gonna be a long day. _

* * *

The iconic flop of red hair Marinette had seen that evening in the Underground could only belong to one boy.

Currently, Nathaniel sat across from her, grinning as she slumped in her bench seat and took bites out of her burrito bowl.

“So, Nat…let’s not ignore the obvious question on my mind,” Marinette said, jabbing her spoon for emphasis. “I didn’t expect to see you here! Didn’t you say you were transferring last year?” Nat had a rough freshman year, she knew. She blushed to remember her small role in it- his brief crush on her the previous fall had not been unawkward.

“I decided not to…I think I’m gonna stick with my Creative technologies major here at FDU. I’m pretty excited actually. I’ve gotten into tons of animating lately.” Nat sighed happily.

It warmed Marinette’s heart to hear him sounding so settled and on a healthy life path.

“I could tell you were pretty surprised when you saw me,” Nat confided conspiratorially. “I just imagined you yelling “imposter!” and yeeting me all the way to the Cantina grill.”

“Oh, my _word _you’re ridiculous,” Marinette laughed, rolling her eyes. “Of course, I recognized you! The instant I spied your ridiculously red hair.”

Nat gave her an appraising look, before smoothing the subject of conversation with aplomb. “You _love_ my hair.”

“Ha! Maybe in your dreams.”

_Soldiering through that bit of weirdness with Nat last year really was completely worth it_.

This time with him was _much_ needed. It had been, as she had predicted, a long and exhausting day.

Her Hangover™ had been the star of the show, but running to and from Administration dropping one class and adding another, then searching for the cheapest textbook rentals, besides going to three afternoon classes back to back with an empty stomach and a pounding head, and the fact that it was the first day of _classes_, _ugh_, meant she had more than enough stress vying for the title of Most Annoying Part of My Life Today.

There had also been her anxiety about broaching with Mylene the subject of her drunken return to the dorm the night before. Thankfully, Mylene had mostly morning classes and Marinette afternoon ones, which gave her enough time to work up something to say to her roommate. It hadn’t been as bad a conversation as she’d been dreading, which is to say it was still awkward, but at least Mylene hadn’t stormed out in a fit of angry disappointment, demanding a new roommate.

And she didn’t want to even think about the source of most of her embarrassment from the previous night. That being the much too attractive Adrien Agreste, who had not acknowledged her again after the brief smile at the beginning of French class.

Which disappointed Marinette, but she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised that Adrien was pretty grossed out by her now. Ugh. And double ugh.

“What’s that sigh for?” teased Nat. “My company getting too boring for you already?”

“What? Oh, no,” Marinette deflected quickly. “No, I’m just thinking about last night and my possibly aka most definitely bad life actions.” She considered Nat. “Did you go out? I didn’t see you.”

He shook his head dramatically. “Oh, nooo, no I did not want a repeat of last year, thank you very much.” He shrugged. “I’m actually trying to avoid partying now, if I can. Turning over a new leaf.”

“That’s really great!” exclaimed Marinette. She knew what he was referring to- last year’s ambulance trip to the ER and two days in the hospital. She really was _so_ proud of Nat.

Thinking a moment, Marinette added, “I guess I’m kinda doing the opposite of you then huh? Only went to two parties last year, and this year here I am getting wasted on Syllabus Eve. Literally partying like 12 hours before classes begin.” She thumped her forehead for emphasis.

Nat shrugged. “The party thing isn’t really your scene Marinette. I’m sure you just wanted a chance to experience it for yourself- doesn’t mean you’re gonna be going out every weekend now.”

“Thanks,” smiled Marinette. She sighed. “I don’t think getting drunk and consistently wasted is like, a good life decision for anyone. I mean I know why people do it. It’s an escape, y’know? You don’t have to think about existential life questions when you’re just living in the moment, and drowning out any unnecessary feelings.” She wrinkled her brow. “For me it’s just, I really like dancing? And drinking, not with the intention of getting drunk, just to have fun with friends?” She sighed again. “I don’t think I would be giving this quite as much thought, if I hadn’t completely, _totally_ embarrassed myself last night.”

“Ooh, do spill!” Nat leaned forward conspiratorially.

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Wait till I finish this bowl. I get blush-y just remembering. And retelling it? Only makes it all the more undeniably and _terribly_ real,” she mumbled, covering her face in her hand.

Nat laughed. “OOooh I can’t wait. I adore “blush-y” stories,” he added, mimicking her description.

Marinette just groaned, and turned her attention to her half-finished burrito bowl.

Nat pulled out his phone, swiping, before getting up and gathering his plate and paper Pepsi cup. “I’m gonna go throw this away,” he said as he walked in the direction of the trash bins.

Marinette gave him a thumbs up, picking up her own iPhone.

Marinette thought she heard Nat’s voice from the other side of the room’s seating. “Hey! What’s up?”

She confirmed this with a glance up in time to hear Nat’s voice again, “Are you sitting by yourself? You gotta come join me over here!”

She felt her stomach drop and also flip itself upside down at the same time.

Nat was talking to Adrien_. Of course_.

She saw Nat leaning an elbow on the high table, gesturing with his other hand, as Adrien got off his bar stool, stuffing his laptop in a knapsack he tossed over one shoulder, and then followed Nat back to their table.

Marinette’s face was a million degrees, and her thoughts froze up as both boys returned to the table, Nat sliding into the booth with Adrien sitting after him.

“Look who I found?” Nat grinned eagerly.

“Uh, h-hey.” Marinette gave a weak smile. “Adrien, right?” She cursed herself immediately. Why did she ask that? Obviously, she knew his name!

“Yeah.” Adrien glanced at her with his piercing green eyes. “I don’t think I remember…”

“Marinette!” she squeaked quickly. He didn’t remember her name…maybe he didn’t remember the night before? She felt herself relax a tiny bit before he continued,

“Yeah, that’s right, sorry. Kinda foggy on all of last night.” He gave her an apologetic grin.

“Oh, ah.” Marinette’s mind stuttered. _He does remember! Aaa! _“Uh, well, I totally understand, same here, pretty boggy too. Foggy, I mean. Hehe.” She gave an awkward laugh, mentally slapping herself as she looked down at her burrito bowl. _Real eloquent, Mari. _All her hunger had evaporated, along with her sanity, but she forced herself to take a bite, if only to have something to do besides looking at Adrien’s adorable black glasses and piercing green eyes.

She didn’t even know why she was so embarrassed! It wasn’t like she had tried to drunkenly grope him, or something! Oh, and _crap_, cause now she was definitely _not_ imagining fondling Adrien. She felt her cheeks bloom even hotter.

Nat was looking between her and Adrien with a big grin. “Ok! There is a story here, I can telllll. Who’s gonna spill the tea first?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Adrien said, frowning. “Marinette just had a bit too much to drink and ended up using me as a human pillow for a while last night. Uh, I hope that’s not too rude of me to say?” he added quickly to Marinette.

She risked another glance at his face, and thought she saw a hint of sheepishness creasing his eyes, which was an entirely new level of cute that she was not equipped to handle. Her cheeks burned even harder, and she hoped it wasn’t blaringly obvious. At worst she could just blame her naturally rosy complexion.

She looked away again and laughed, which sounded strained even to her ears. “Oh, no, I did have drinks too much, I-I mean drank too much. Thanks for helping me back to my dorm.”

Adrien seemed non-plussed. “Not a problem. I was happy to help.”

She gave him a shy smile, then added, unthinking, “And you weren’t an uncomfortable pillow either. Um, I mean…” She trailed off. _Yeah, I bet he was really comfortable Marinette. Probably drooled all over him. Gosh. _

“Well…that’s good?” Adrien gave an awkward laugh. He paused before posing with an ironic bodybuilder attitude, “Yeah, you know with _these_ muscles, always thought I’d feel like cuddling a rock,” earning a chortle from Nat.

“Sorry to break it to you Adrien, but nothing beats these guns,” Nat announced, flexing one of his own skinny arms.

Marinette couldn’t help herself, she had to look over at Adrien, wearing a black T-shirt with the words “Agreste Brand” scrawled across, and yes, he was disgustingly lean and toned. Her stomach buzzed.

Marinette looked away quickly, and scoffed good-naturedly at Nat. “I’m sorry, but you might need to hit the gym for like, a few more years before you’ll have any “guns” to speak of.”

“I can’t believe you’re agreeing Adrien is buff and I’m not!” Nat whined.

She whipped her gaze to Adrien, then back to Nat. “Oh, I uh, wasn’t saying that…I mean, not that you _aren’t_ in good shape,” she told Adrien, then realized what she had said. “I mean, uh,” she bit her lip, and was sure her blush went from the tips of ears to soles of her feet. “I mean like, you’re a model, so, you know, staying in shape is basically your job description, right?” she finished lamely.

Adrien looked amused. “Well, I’d say there’s a bit more to it than that.”

“Oh, right, yeah obviously, sorry I wasn’t trying to imply- “

“But thanks,” Adrien cut her off, and yup, he was definitely laughing at her. “And actually, I’m kind of taking a break from the whole fashion thing right now. Not that my dad is stoked about that,” he added, and his voice turned bitter so quickly that Marinette forgot her embarrassment, as a wash of compassion swept through her. The media made no point of hiding the family drama between Adrien and his father Gabriel Agreste: controlling, pompous and reclusive founder of the successful Agreste Brand.

Adrien’s hands clenched into fists and he frowned at the table.

“Yeah, how is he taking it, your studies here? Any better than last year?” Nat asked, considerately.

Adrien just scowled further. “He’s a controlling asshole. Don’t really want to talk about it. Sorry,” he said again, glancing to Nat, then Marinette.

She met his gaze. She could completely relate, as she figured most young people could.

“We all have parents,” she said wryly. “I would say I have a pretty good relationship with mine now- I think the college distance helps a lot. But it’s still this constant frustration about being treated like a kid, but expected to act like an adult.” She rolled her eyes, then added carefully, caringly, “Maybe coming to college, becoming your own person, will help? Between you and your dad?”

“Maybe,” Adrien muttered, and Nat laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Marinette glanced at the table, the remains of her burrito bowl, her phone. She felt slightly awkward, but now for a different reason. She pulled at her nose, glanced away, then looked back to Adrien and Nat.

“I think I’m gonna head off now,” she said, sliding out of the booth and pocketing her phone. “Still haven’t finished moving in to my room, probably driving my longsuffering roommate crazy.” She grabbed her trash, and gave the boys a grin and a little wave. “So, uh, bye? I’ll see you guys.”

Nat copied her wave, and cast her a wide grin. “See you later! Hey, and text me!”

Adrien looked up at her briefly, and she could _see_ as he schooled his expression into something that, if she hadn’t seen his glower a few seconds prior, would have appeared genuinely cheerful. “Good to see you Marinette.”

Marinette waved again, and turned around, walking to the trash bins then up the ramp to the double doors. She let out a _whoosh_ of breath, and covered her face with her hands.

_Well, that just happened. _

* * *

_Many centuries ago, magic jewels bestowing extraordinary powers were created…_

_These were the Miraculous._

_Throughout history, heroes have used these jewels for the good of the human race._

_Two of these miraculous are more powerful than the others, the earrings of the Ladybug which provide the power of creation, and the ring of the black Cat, which grants the power of destruction._

_According to legend, whoever controls both these jewels at the same time will achieve absolute power._

_ “I want that absolute power, Nooroo. I must have those miraculous.” _

_“But nobody knows where these miraculous are!”_

_ “I found you though, my little Nooroo…” _

**...**

_“Master, the moth miraculous! I felt its aura!”_

** _“I thought that miraculous had been lost forever.”_ **

_“But also master, it has a negative aura. I fear it may have gotten into the hands of a dark power.”_

** _“We must find Nooroo and his miraculous. If it has got into the wrong hands, there’s no telling what evil will come upon the world! Time to transform! Wayzz- ah, oof!”_ **

_“Master be reasonable. You are- “_

** _“Still young! I’m only 186. But you are right Wayzz, I can no longer do it alone. We’ll need some help.”_ **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette is running late, DjWifi is adorable, Kagami is a badass, and Adrien almost gets run over...twice.

_You’d think after a week I would have gotten into the swing of things at least a little!_

_Eh, who are we kidding. There is no swing of things when Marinette D.-C. is involved._

It was Monday again. Funny how it kept coming back around, the unwanted little bastard.

And Marinette was also dragging again. She and Mylene had a Pirates of the Caribbean marathon that had lasted to the wee hours of the morning. And unfortunately but unsurprisingly, Marinette hadn’t completed her homework over the weekend either.

So here she was, in French class, furiously filling in her worksheet while also paying as much attention to her professor as possible. Dr. Kirkland was known as the easier grader of the two French profs, but she also valued oral fluency above all else- which meant one needed to be prepared at all times to be called on in class, or else face the shame of her pointed mocking.

Marinette glanced over her shoulder at Adrien. The way he sprawled in his chair, almost never even picking up his pencil, had first made her wonder if he was completely blowing off the course.

Until the first time she heard him answer a question in French, and she realized why he might have a good excuse to not pay attention. His accent was flawless. He spoke easily, a quiet but melodic tone that (Marinette could hardly admit to herself) was actually kind of sexy.

They hadn’t spoken again since the week prior, in the Underground with Nathaniel. He always breezed out the moment class ended, and Marinette had to walk all the way around the row to get out the door, ensuring he was always long gone by the time she entered the hallway.

She wasn’t sure if this bothered her or not.

Three classes, and an almond milk latte later, she dragged herself back to her dorm room. Mylene was sitting in bed, MacBook in her lap and headphones over her rainbow-colored braids. She removed the headphones with a grin as Marinette dropped her bag to the ground and flopped on her beanbag with an overwrought sigh.

“Well, I hope your classes went better than mine today,” Marinette said, dragging her hands down her face.

Mylene gave her an almost worried look that morphed into an amused smile. “It’s only been one-week Marinette. I wouldn’t start getting too worried now…I mean, things are definitely going to get crazier before they get better.” A frown creased her eyebrows at this, and she turned back to the laptop.

Marinette shot her a sheepish grin. “I know. I just like being over dramatic about it, I think. That way I’ve already emotionally over-prepared for the worst.” She paused. “That doesn’t really make sense. Whatever.”

“Yeah...not really,” Mylene agreed with an apologetic grin. “You were on time for classes today at least, right?” When she saw Marinette’s face, she gave a tut-tut. “_Marinette_!”

“I knooowwww…”

“All your classes are back to back, and your first class is at like, what, eleven or something?”

“Uh, noon, actually,” Marinette admitted, not looking up.

“At noon? Oh my gosh, you have _literally_ no excuse. How does that not drive you absolutely insane? I have to be at least five minutes early. And usually try to be ten minutes.”

“I know,” Marinette sighed again. “I’m hopeless.”

“What was it this time?”

“Well,” Marinette perked up a little at the chance to tell her story, “I was still really tired from the Pirates marathon last night- “

Mylene nodded in agreement.

“- so of course, I was still tired at ten, when my alarm went off. So, I might have, uh, like turned the alarm off, but didn’t set another one? And then when I woke up again it was 11:39 and I had like, 15 minutes to get dressed and wash my face before running all the way to Classic- “

A disappointed shake of the head.

“-and then of course I forgot my books for psych, so then I had to run all the way back here to grab those for my next class, which meant I was late for psych too. So…yeah.”

Mylene shook her head fondly. “Tsk. I wish my classes weren’t in the morning. I could help you make sure to get up on time!”

Marinette gave her an appreciative grin. “That’s so sweet. You’re the sweetest Mylene, thanks.” She thumped her forehead a few times. “I’ll get it eventually. I think.”

Mylene laughed. “I’m sure you will.”

Marinette smiled to herself. She really had lucked out with the best roommate ever. She climbed out the beanbag to grab her water bottle from their mini fridge before crawling into her own bed and lying stomach down with her own laptop.

“Oh, I just remembered, one of your friends, Alya, I think? Came by a little while ago to ask if you wanted to go with her to this board games club meeting tonight? Except it’s not games tonight, its dance something.”

“_Just_ _Dance_?” Marinette asked excitedly.

“Yeah. I remember now, it’s for the ‘Tabletop Club.’”

Marinette remembered Alya talking about it the previous week as they had chatted in their hall’s common lounge. Apparently, Alya’s “good friend” Nino was the president of it this year. It wasn’t just board games, or video games, or cards, but a combination of everything.

Marinette had come to terms with her inner nerd in high school, and while she didn’t consider herself a “gamer” per say, she loved the social aspect of board games and wasn’t ashamed to admit she absolutely adored anything on the Wii.

“Did she say what time it was at? Do you know if she’s in her room now?”

“I think she said it was at six? And I’m not sure.”

Marinette slapped her laptop closed and clambered off her bed. It was almost five p.m. now. “I’m gonna go see if she’s here right now,” she said with an excited clap. “I definitely want to go. Mylene, do you want to come too?”

Mylene shook her head. “Thanks, but I have to study for a quiz for tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll have fun though.”

“I hope so!” Marinette skittered out of the room, across the lounge and down the short hallway to reach Alya’s dorm room. The door was cracked, so she knocked a few times before slowly pushing it open.

“Hey…it’s Marinette? Alya, are you here?”

She finished opening the door to reveal Alya sitting on a rug on the floor, painting her toenails bright red.

“I’m here! Hey girl!” Alya gave a quick wave with the hand holding the nail polish bottle, while painting her big toe with the other hand.

_Mad_ _skills_, thought Marinette. “Mylene told me about the games night meeting thing tonight? _Just_-”

“Yeah, it’s _Just_ _Dance_ night! Are you gonna come? Oh shit.” Alya wiped a bit of polish off her toe.

Marinette slid down to sit across from Alya’s feet. “It’s ok if I sit…?”

“Oh yeah, go ahead!” Alya capped her bottle and set it aside. She settled her gaze on Marinette. “I think it’s gonna be really fun tonight. I am a total beast at _Just_ _Dance_. Too many years of playing with my siblings. The twins are insatiable,” she grinned.

Marinette laughed. “Same here! Well, not my siblings, but the little girl I babysit is incessant in her demands to play anything on the Wii. She’s a little animal.”

“God, aren’t all kids though? So, definitely coming?”

“Definitely. Sounds like so much fun!”

“It’s _Just_ _Dance_. It can’t be anything but fun,” Alya said seriously.

“Exactly.” Marinette grinned. She gave Alya’s a room a good look-over. Everything was shades of green and orange. Orange rug, green and orange plaid comforter, and a green tie-dye tapestry on the wall behind her bed.

“I love the colors in here,” Marinette said with an appraising nod.

“Thanks! It was all my roommates work, she’s very artsy like that. I couldn’t care less if my bed matches my wall,” she waved a hand good-naturedly.

“I appreciate a fellow artist!” said Marinette, “It’s hard putting in the work to make things looks nice, but I like the aesthetics more than the luxury of doing nothing.”

Alya laughed at that. She stood up, replacing the polish bottle on the top of her dresser. The whole color spectrum was well represented in her collection, Marinette noted enviously.

Alya half-sat on her bed before turning to Marinette. “Have you eaten yet?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t actually, and I’m pretty hungry too.”

“Same here! Wanna go to the D2 and grab dinner and then go to the Tabletop Club after that?”

Marinette stood up. “Totally! If we go now, I’ll grab my ID from the room on our way out.”

“Good...cause honestly I think I could eat a whole giraffe at this point.”

Laughing, they arrived at Dietrick Hall ten minutes later. It was almost 5:30, “dinner rush,” so the girls stood at the end of a respectably-sized line waiting to swipe their IDs and go in.

“Hey,” Alya said, pulling out her phone. “I don’t think we ever exchanged numbers. You want to put yours in my phone? I’ll text you and then you’ll have mine too.”

“Of course!” Marinette tapped in her number and handed the phone back.

“Awesome.” Alya typed out a quick text as they reached the dining room doors. She winked at Marinette. “Now officially friends.”

“Oh my gosh. Yes, phone numbers- the true measure of friendship right there.” Marinette rolled her eyes, but she was grinning widely.

**...**

Six p.m. arrived and saw Alya and Marinette inside the old Science building, standing just inside the biggest ground level classroom, that had surprisingly few tables and chairs, all of which had been pushed against the farthest wall.

Marinette remembered it wasn’t actually that surprising, because the building was used for hardly any classes now, and mostly just contained faculty offices and unused classrooms, like this one.

Three flat-screen TVs were situated on the other three walls, and a small table with snacks and water bottles sat in the middle.

A young man with a wide, lazy grin and red baseball cap walked up to them, hands in his jean pockets.

“Hey Nino,” Alya said, crossing her arms, hip cocked.

“Oh, h-hey, Alya!” Nino gave a stiff wave, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the hint of red on his tanned cheeks. She looked over at Alya, who was also acting a little weird, uncrossing and then crossing her arms again. 

“I’m, uh, really glad you came. Really glad.” Nino scratched the back of his neck. Finally, he seemed to notice Marinette, and his smile grew easy again, relief at focusing on someone else pretty darn obvious, Marinette thought. “Oh, and I’m glad you could come too, uh…?”

She had to stifle a laugh. “Marinette,” she replied. “I’m excited to be here! It is so awesome you are putting this on.”

“Tabletop Club is kinda like Nino’s brain child,” Alya cut in. “It used to be this deadbeat, nonexistent thing, until Nino completely revived it last year.” The admiration in Alya’s voice was undeniable.

Nino chuckled awkwardly. “Oh, heh, uh thanks, Alya. It is though,” he admitted to Marinette. “I can’t deny games are a pretty big part of my life…I’ve like, really enjoyed turning the club into an opportunity for us fellow gamers to get together and celebrate what we love! I just hope it’s as fun for everyone who comes as it’s been for me to run it.” He grinned, glancing over at Alya and rubbing the back of his neck again.

“I can’t imagine how anyone could think this wasn’t fun,” Marinette said honestly, waving to the glowing TVs where Wii consoles were being booted up and controllers turned on and passed around.

“Nino is also like, the most _amazing_ DJ,” Alya added. “He’s a man of many talents.” She gave Nino a look of almost sickeningly sweet pride and Nino flushed even more red.

Marinette held back her groan. She was going to have to talk to Alya later. There was _clearly_ something going on between these two.

Nino tore his gaze from where he and Alya had been staring googly eyes to each other, and beckoned to a dark kid with glasses and really cool hair- a curly fade with horizontal lines cut into the sides.

“Hey Max, you need to meet my friends Alya and Marinette!”

_Just met and already friends? Nino, you’re my kind of guy!_

Max loped up, all skinny elbows and knees. “Greetings fellow gamers,” he said, voice slightly higher than Marinette would have expected.

She and Alya both introduced themselves.

“Max here is my new right-hand dude. Met him during his freshman orientation, and let me tell ya, this kid’s a genius. Like, we’re both in the same advanced coding class?” Nino threw his arm over Max’s shoulder, a good five inches taller than the kid, though the hair gave Max a little extra height.

Nino punched Max’s arm warmly with his other hand. “We’ve only been working together for a week and a half, but I have nothing but high expectations for this partnership.”

Max smiled stiffly, before tactfully extracting himself from Nino’s arm. “Well, it is nice meeting you guys.” He turned to Nino. “I need about eight, but possibly up to 12, AA batteries. Where are we able to obtain that many?”

“Let me think…hm…” Nino grabbed his chin thoughtfully, then looked back at the girls. “Sorry dudes, but I think I better make sure we’ve got the stuff to keep these Wii remotes dancing all night! See ya, Marinette. And uh, um, b-bye Alya.” He stuttered, flushing, and then jogged after Max.

“Nino seems really nice,” Marinette grinned to Alya. “He’s your _really_ _good_ _friend_…?”

“He is a good friend!” Alya shrugged at Marinette’s look. “What’s the deal?”

Marinette just nodded knowingly. “Uh-huh, ok. Well, you ready to go play some _Just_ _Dance_?”

“Oh girl, it’s _on_.”

Alya stomped over to the nearest TV and Marinette snickered gleefully, following her.

* * *

Adrien really fucking hated modeling.

He hated all the frantic bustling. He hated the stylists, the makeup artists, the photographers, constantly being touched, talked to, instructed to move this way, now that. He hated all the noise, bright lights.

It was a sensory overload and afterwards he would drag himself back to his room and take a long, hot shower to try and wash off even the _smell_ of the cameras, and then faceplant on his bed and refuse to leave his room for at least a few days.

Adrien couldn’t think of anything he hated more.

It hadn’t been a question of _if_ Adrien would join the fashion industry, but _when_. And that ended up being right after he reached elementary age. The media adored the golden child of renowned fashion designer Gabriel Agreste and his beautiful wife Emilie, and magazines practically drooled over the perfect image of an Agreste son modeling Agreste fashion.

Adrien hated photoshoots from the very first day, but the truth was…he hated disappointing his father even _more_. He hated letting anyone down, hated to say no and see the disappointment written on their face. 

But at some point, the pile of engagements would become so stifling he knew if he didn’t escape, he would literally suffocate and _die_, and so he would retreat to the safety of isolation and the comfort of only himself for company.

But despite how much the modeling- the smiling, the posing- drained him dry, he had never drawn up enough courage to tell his father, “No.”

Until the summer before his high-school senior year, when his mother left.

Suddenly, his already reserved father became cold, distant and unbearably strict. Adrien could so easily pick up on his father’s emotions, could so easily be the sympathetic and obedient son. He wanted his father to be happy. But the icy shell of a man his mother left behind was a stranger. Adrien couldn’t try any longer.

He refused to do another photoshoot. He refused put off university “for a year, or two, just to give yourself time to really find what you love” and he refused to let his father dictate his life.

Well, mostly. He was still attending college only a few hours from the city and sprawling family estate. His father’s personal secretary still kept in constant contact with him.

Adrien sympathized with Nathalie. She was a no nonsense, disciplined woman, and she had poured her entire existence into his father’s business. He knew she was proud of her job, in the background managing the schedules, the very lives almost, of the two Agreste men in her care.

There was a personal reason she had stayed all these years too, Adrien was sure. Nathalie was not the type to confide in anyone, least of all Adrien, but he saw the way she looked at his father. He knew there was something between them, but he was so burnt out on trying to connect with his father he had never put the time in to investigate his suspicions.

He didn’t care.

(Except he _did_ care. Oh, how he tried and failed not to.)

**Why can’t I stop thinking about this? Seriously, can’t we think of any-_fucking_-thing else right now?**

**Well, except that apparently father wants to “talk to me” and it’s “imperative I contact him.” Yeah, well if it was so imperative, why doesn’t he actually go to the trouble of reaching out to me, huh? Never see him putting that effort in, do we?**

**Adrien this is stupid. You know you’re gonna call him. Why are you beating around the bush? Just _pick_ _up_ _the_ _phone_...**

**No! I am not going to let _him_ manipulate _me_ like-**

“Shit.” Adrien’s phone was buzzing and he had been ignoring it, but now it had vibrated all the way off the piano with a loud _plat!_ onto the linoleum of the practice music room. Adrien sighed, reached down and glanced at the caller ID.

>>>You have: Three missed calls from Nino Lahiffe.

“Uhhhhgghh,” Adrien wiped a hand down his face before screeching the bench back and letting his forehead hit the piano keys with a discordant shriek.

**You should talk to Nino. Tell him how you’re feeling.**

**How am I feeling? Have we even decided that particular detail yet?**

**Fair point.**

Holding his phone below him at arm’s length, Adrien stared at the screen uncertainly. He hadn’t talked to Nino all day, not since Nathalie had called him the night before. (“Your father wishes you would reconsider your choices Adrien.” The magic words. “He is…disappointed.”)

Adrien’s phone began buzzing again. He waited for five rings before, sighing, pressing accept and raising the phone to his ear, elbow resting beside his slumped head on the piano keys, eyes staring unseeing at the shadowed floor.

“Hey.”

“Adrien, finally! I’ve called you about four times, dude. Everything ok? I know something must have happened last night, you said you were coming to Tabletop but never showed up. Is it your dad or something?”

“Yeah. Or something.”

“Oh. Bummer. You really missed out last night too, it was a really good time.”

Adrien noticed the way Nino’s voice turned almost wistful.

“Yeah?” he chuckled. “Sounds like it. Would a certain curvy brunette have something to do with that?”

“What? N-no! Uh…maybe?” Nino sputtered.

Adrien laughed; his worries forgotten in the chance to tease his best friend. “Nino, you can’t play dumb with me. I can hear your heart in your voice alone.”

“No! I-I mean…” Nino trailed off. Adrien waited, a smile playing on his lips. He knew his friend pretty well. He wanted Nino to admit it out loud.

Nino let out an audible whoosh of air. “Yeah, ok. You’re right. It might have had…something…to do with Alya being there.” A pause. “It’s just…she seems so aloof when you first see her. Like, all confident and poised. And then you get her playing Wii games and she gets so cute and flustered when she doesn’t win. I just…I think…I think, dude, I might _like_ her?” Nino gave a surprised laugh. “Wow, I can’t believe I said that. Huh.” He trailed off again before adding quickly, “Dude, you are not telling anyone I said that!”

Adrien was grinning. “You know I’m rooting for you, Nino. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, dude. I just…yeah.” Another short laugh. “So, where are you right now?”

“The CFA. Practice room.”

“Piano? Nice. So, Dietrick is already closed for lunch…I’m leaving the room right now, but I could swing by you and we could get a burger or something from the Shoebox? Or you wanna go to the Underground?”

Adrien wasn’t really hungry. Truthfully, he just wanted to stay here and wallow in his thoughts a bit longer.

He could let his mind unspool to the sound of Chopin and Bach, and the relaxing repetition of his fingers on the keys. The well-known patterns flowed mindlessly out of him, giving his brain room for his thoughts knocking around, chasing problems without finding conclusions.

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’m in Room 205 B. Can’t miss me, it’ll be the room where the sounds of a musical masterpiece are being created.”

“Ha! Cool I’ll see ya in a bit.” Nino hung up. Adrien just let his phone-holding hand rest on the piano by his head. He stared at the floor for several long seconds.

**Why do I make this so hard for myself?**

Adrien sat up. He rubbed his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair. He tried to focus on the sensations around him instead of the screaming thoughts inside him.

He didn’t hate his mind. He just…he was tired of the circles his mind was going around in since the previous evening.

He stretched, cracking his back, then set his phone on the bench beside him. Wiggling his fingers, he hovered his hands above the keys for a second, before a gentle settle of his fingers and the first notes dripped away from him.

Nino found him playing the last chord of Nocturne in C-sharp minor.

“Hey dude, ready to go?”

Adrien opened his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d closed them.

Nino suddenly laughed. “Uh, Adrien, have you seen your face? It’s like the musical notes tattoo no one has _ever_ wanted.”

Adrien rubbed his forehead, realizing for the first time the imprints the piano had left on his face. He tried to comb more of his mane over his forehead. “Is this better?”

“Yeah a little,” Nino snorted. “Alright c’mon, Piano Man. It’s eating time!”

* * *

_Marinette, why do you do this to yourself? _Marinette thought this for at least the thirtieth time as she ran to class, backpack slapping ridiculously on her back.

_Hey, diamonds are like, made under pressure! So, in the same way, I do my best work when I’m under pressure…running…to class…_

_Ok, I’ll allow that might not be the best analogy._

It was kind of, definitely ridiculous that she was late to a ONE PM class. She couldn’t blame the early morning. She could only blame her less-than-ideal time tracking skills. She didn’t even feel embarrassed as she shot past surprised students, cutting into the grass of the Drillfield before passing and returning to the sidewalk.

Unfortunately, her psychology class was in the literal farthest building from her dorm, on the other side of campus, which meant it was _at_ _best_ a fifteen-minute walk. Marinette hoped to run it in eight.

As the doors to Horner Center appeared in the distance before her, she slowed her jog to a fast walk as she dashed up the tiers of steps.

She slowed further as she noticed a very elderly looking Asian man slowly emerging from Horner, pushing one of the middle doors open. He looked like a shriveled prune, tanned wrinkly skin all folded in on itself, back bent as he hobbled on his cane. 

Marinette let herself take a moment to acknowledge the strangeness at seeing what looked like a nursing home escapee emerging from an FDU academic hall.

But her attention was turned quickly to the posse of big football-types coming out of the center doors at the same time. She saw as they pushed through the door adjoining "Mr. Cane," and then Marinette gasped in shock as the man was jostled by the boys before completely wiping out just outside the doors.

The group of dudes didn’t even notice, shoving each other around some more as they laughed down the sidewalk.

Any thoughts of how she was running late flew from Marinette’s mind. She quickly ran the rest of the way to Mr. Cane and kneeled beside him, where he was trying unsuccessfully to move from his side to his knees.

Marinette let her backpack drop the ground beside her. “Oh, my word, sir, are you alright?” she cried.

“Hello young lady,” wheezed Mr. Cane. “I’m just fine, if you would be so kind as to help me get my legs underneath me again.” He gave a soft chuckle, seeming completely nonplussed despite face-planting on the cement a moment earlier.

“Of course, here let me!” Marinette had him lean against her as she helped him to a standing position, cane once more securely in his grasp.

“Thank you, thank you,” he bobbed his head. It reminded Marinette of a turtle, poking out of its shell. He was also, Marinette noted with surprise, not actually as wrinkled up close as she had thought. “It looked like you were in a hurry there.”

“That does not matter _one_ bit. Goodness I’m so glad you’re alright! Those boys! What jerks! I’m so sorry.” Marinette smiled apologetically at the man.

“Your kindness is much appreciated.” Mr. Cane said with a bright-eyed grin.

“Oh again, totally not a problem! You’re very welcome.” Marinette gave him a smile and wave, then pushed the door open, already beginning her dash to the second level classroom.

“Miss!” she heard called behind her. She swiveled around.

Mr. Cane was indicating her backpack. “I expect you’ll be wanting to bring this with you.”

“Oh shoot. Yes, I will, thank you! Thank you so much!” Marinette shot him one last wide smile, then turned and skedaddled like a crazy person up the stairs and into her class.

She was eleven minutes late but she wasn’t sorry at all.

* * *

Adrien parked his BMW and was heading to fencing practice, bag slung over his shoulder.

He had just come from a relaxing morning at his favorite downtown coffee shop. After ordering his white chocolate cappuccino- (he was a strong, confident man, and he didn’t need to feel insecure about his coffee preferences)

(…though he did pass on the whipped cream)

-he could sit in a leather chair in the furthest, dimmest corner of the adjoining side room, put in his earbuds, and settle comfortably into his homework.

At one point, the bandana-wearing barista came up to take his mug, and ended up in the chair across from him for nearly fifteen minutes, unloading her recent breakup upon his sympathetic ears and encouraging smile.

(“Wow. You are such a good listener. I feel so much…lighter now,” she said and thanked him sincerely. A muffin appeared on his table a few minutes later “it’s on the house.”)

**Yeah, I’d say it’s been a pretty successful day so far. Now if I can just keep Kagami from kicking my ass this evening I’ll be absolutely golden.**

Adrien began brooding on the infidelity of the modern boyfriend as he approached the street’s crosswalk. He stepped forward and was jolted from his thoughts as a grey SUV flew past.

Adrien skittered backwards, heart thumping.

**What. The. Fuck? Did that car just appear out of nowhere?**

**I guess having a “pretty successful day” now includes almost dying. Cool. **

Rolling his eyes, Adrien looked down the road cautiously, before quickly jogging across, hands on his backpack straps. He walked along the opposite tree-lined sidewalk. He was nearing the next intersection, busy enough for street lights and a self-activated crosswalk. Adrien noted briefly the odd sight of a frail-looking old man on the opposite side of the street.

Adrien was lost in his thoughts as he reached the intersection and absently thwacked the crosswalk button. He realized the little old man was crossing the street coming his direction, so without a second glance Adrien moved from his side of the street too.

When he looked back, Adrien was able to easily trace in his mind exactly what happened next, but in the moment, all he experienced was the sensation of walking past the little old man, a glance to the left, the time-stopping shock of a small car barreling straight towards them, and Adrien’s instincts kicking in without thought, as he was turning around, grabbing the old man’s arm and pulling him back to his side of the street, the red flash of metal whooshing by seconds later.

Adrien’s brain began moving again and he realized he was panting and stooped to hold the little man upright.

“Are you all right, young man?” the man asked _him_, seeming almost comically unperturbed.

“I’m fine,” gasped Adrien. He stared at the little man in shock. “Though. Um. I think you were almost run over, sir.”

The little man gave him a penetrating stare. “But I wasn’t,” he reminded softly, a gleam in his eyes. “Thanks to you.”

Adrien shook his head, eyes wide. “Oh no, I- honestly, I have no idea what just happened sir, or what I did.” He looked around, mind still reeling, before looking back. Upon closer inspection he was surprised that the Asian man wasn’t quite as wrinkly or sparse-haired as he had been expecting, what with the cane he hunched over.

Adrien gave him a rueful smile. “Well, I guess I better be heading off. I hope the rest of your day is less eventful than it’s been this far!”

“That will remain to be seen,” the man said cryptically, peering up at Adrien with an unreadable expression.

“Alright,” Adrien said slowly, brows furrowing slightly.

**What is that supposed to mean?**

**…ok, I’ll think about it later. If I don’t go soon, I’ll be late to practice.**

Adrien gave another smile and a half-wave to the little man, and crossed the street after giving two very long looks in both directions.

**Almost run over twice in fifteen minutes? I think that’s a new record, Agreste.**

**...**

“So, I guess you haven’t keeled over dead after all.”

“That’s what I get for being barely ten minutes late? Don’t let anyone ever claim you’re overdramatic, Kagami. Good to see you too,” chuckled Adrien as he followed her down the hallway from the showers to the practice room. “Has your day been alright?” he asked carefully.

“My day has been a perfectly typical Friday, thank you. What I am more concerned about is that, though you protest, I have never seen the famous Adrien Agreste later than a minute past schedule.” Kagami fixed Adrien with an inquisitive yet steely gaze.

Adrien considered this as they entered the small gym. Several students were already dressed, hooked up, and beginning warm ups on the fencing strips. Their coach, Armand D’Argencourt, was talking to the group of freshmen, a pretty nice turnout, though it was only the beginning of the year.

Adrien had already exchanged his sweatpants for his breeches and knee-high socks. Kagami had done the same, only her entire ensemble was dyed a deep red. Now they both put on their jackets and sabre lames, strapped on their gloves, and grabbed their helmets and sabers.

Adrien had been part of a prestigious high-school fencing team, and coming to Francois Dupont, with its middling fencing club, was just one of his father’s current disappointments in him.

In high school he had competed in all three varieties of fencing, but FDU only offered saber. That didn’t bother Adrien. Saber fencing was by far his favorite. It was faster, requiring greater accuracy and technique.

There was something so incredibly freeing about narrowing his raging thoughts for a heated rush of attacks and parries, maybe fifteen seconds, all focus on his body and his opponent and the flash of thread-thin steel.

And Adrien admitted wryly, he wasn’t completely opposed to the romantic history surrounding fencing either. 

He and Kagami spent maybe ten minutes warming up their bodies. They jumped rope, stretched, went through some footwork, before heading to a strip and hooking on their body cords, helmets pulled over faces.

“Are you ready?”

Adrien grinned. “I was born ready.”

The fencing began. They started slow, careful lunges and short steps.

Kagami never lasted at this pace more than a few hits. With no warning, she threw herself forward like wind, steps fluid as water and arm fast as lightning.

Adrien was expecting her to speed up eventually. He parried, then began his own attack, before Kagami twisted out of the way, and danced forward. _Hit_.

They went back and forth, Kagami scoring the majority of the hits, to Adrien’s chagrin.

She pulled her mask up, a smug look creasing her brown eyes. “Are you sure you can keep up with me, little boy?”

“That depends- you think you can match my speed, old lady?”

“Slugs takes lessons from you to learn how to move slower.”

“Really? Well, the nursing home just called, and they want their grandma back!”

Kagami gave him a blank look.

Adrien thought a minute. “That…might not have been my _best_ comeback, I’ll admit.”

In answer, Kagami shut her mask and the attacks began again.

The nicknames were purely ironic- Adrien was a year younger and Kagami was practically a foot shorter (“Nine inches! It’s only nine inches dammit!”) hence “old lady” and “little boy.”

An hour unspooled away from them, lost in the thrust of metal and twist of muscle. Eventually, Adrien took his helmet off entirely, wiping his face with a towel. Kagami drank almost a whole water bottle in one go.

“Excellent work as always Adrien, Kagami.” D’Argencourt told them both. He was always nearby, there to offer the occasional suggestion or critique. But these were his two-star athletes, each the best of the respective men’s/women’s team. He let them practice on their own a good amount of the time.

“Adrien, you can come help me with the new members now, and Kagami, you go run over some of those trouble spots in the advanced footwork with the women.” Their coach clapped his hands together once for emphasis.

Kagami nodded to Adrien. “I’ll see you later, shorty.”

Adrien just shook his head with a laugh and headed over to the group of newbies, six or so total.

“Hey guys,” he said, handing out a few fist bumps. “Alright, this is your third practice, so how are you all feeling? More comfortable? Like you at least made the right decision to join the club, I hope.”

He got a few laughs for that. One of the boys spoke up. “Honestly, it still seems completely foreign to me. Should it be getting easier at this point? Everything is just way too fast and also impossibly precise…” the boy trailed off, glancing away. “I mean it’s great, just kinda feels like a contradiction sometimes.”

“There is always a learning curve,” Adrien assured them. “I started fencing in junior high, and let me tell you, it took me years to get to any semblance of proficiency.” At their worried looks he laughed. “Don’t worry, you guys are already making progress much faster than I did. It helps you’re older, more comfortable with your bodies.”

He paused for the unavoidable “Hell yeah we are!” and sniggers, before smiling and continuing. “What makes fencing an amazing sport is how much it benefits you, no matter what your level. Even though you guys are in that “learning curve” right now, you’re still improving balance, coordination, focus…you’re training your body AND your mind. Its hard to find a sport where you can do both.”

He smiled encouragingly at the newbies before him. “You guys are trying a new sport, putting yourself out there! You’re already winners simply for being here. Everything on out is just bonus.”

D’Argencourt clapped him on the shoulder after practice ended. “Wonderful as always Adrien. Not only a talented fencer, but a truly motivational teacher. What would we do without you?”

Adrien ducked from the praise. “You’re too kind coach. I’m happy to talk with the new members. They are the real brave ones, the ones who’ve never fenced before coming here.” He looked at D’Argencourt seriously. “I mean everything I tell them. They are winners.”

“And you are the one who lets them believe that.” Another pat on the shoulder before he bid his athlete good bye. “See you Tuesday, son.”

Adrien gave a wave goodbye, went to the locker room and changed. He didn’t catch Kagami on the way out but he didn’t mind.

Now that his brain wasn’t occupied with steel and strategy, his thoughts roiled once again. He decided it was time to go back to his room, stretch out on his bed, and not move for the next 36 hours.

Unfortunately, luck had other plans.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which a villain is created, and defeated, and Adrien falls in love.

“That was _insane_.” Alya had to raise her own volume to be heard over the cacophony of voices.

“Oh gosh…yeah.” Marinette shuddered involuntarily. She didn’t know what to think.

One of the students in their communications class, she thought she heard his name was Ivan, had just been caught carrying _marijuana_. On his _person_. In _class!_

It had started as a tussle between Ivan and another big guy in the back of the lecture hall. This was one of the biggest on campus, with multiple rows of seats that could seat upwards of 200 students. Marinette had only ever really noticed Ivan before because he was a) huge and b) sat at the very back of the class, only a few rows from her and Alya’s seats.

They had seen the whole thing play out. Ivan and another kid, some jock-looking guy in a neon orange short-sleeved hoodie, had started out hissing at each other. This escalated to barely muted shouts, only missed by the professor because he was an entertaining, but rather deaf older gentleman.

Eventually, Ivan had stood up. The other kid followed suit. Someone shoved someone else, a fist was flying, then both boys were grappling with each other, falling into the aisleway that ran along the edge of the wall. 

This would have been incredible if it were only thing that happened. By this point most of the class had noticed what was going on, and all attention had turned from the professor to the two wrestling kids.

But then the completely unexpected- as they were fighting, Ivan’s small knapsack got pushed off his back. It began tumbling down the aisle, straps loosening, contents falling out, and it managed to roll all the way down to the floor of the auditorium.

The professor, who had finally noticed the commotion, walked to the bag, picked it up or something, Marinette wasn’t really sure, and then exclaimed, “My god, this boy is carrying marijuana!”

After that, all hell broke loose.

Somehow, a security officer had been called, Ivan had been taken for questioning, the other kid as well.

Perhaps the oddest thing was that the whole way out, Ivan kept demanding loudly, “But this isn’t mine! I’ve never done a joint in m’life, I swear! This grass isn’t mine!!”

“Do you really think it isn’t his?” Marinette asked Alya.

“I have absolutely no clue.” Alya was frantically typing on her phone. “All I know, is the student newspaper needs to get this scoop like, yesterday! This is the story of the year!” She looked at Marinette with a wild gleam in her eyes. “And I’m the one on the front lines, reporting! This is amazing!”

“Uh, I guess?” Marinette suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

_Someone has just been caught in possession of drugs, and all Alya can care about is the newsworthiness of the story?_

_Well, I suppose that is a budding reporter for you._

“Seriously, I cannot believe this is _happening_ right now. I can’t believe this is happening_ right now!” _Alya sounded almost hysterical. She started shoving books into her backpack. “I need to go. I’m going to be right there, in the middle of the action.” She turned to Marinette. “Do you think that security guard would have time for some questions?”

“Uhh, I’m not sure…”

“No, you’re right. Tomorrow is a much better time to schedule an interview. God, I’m shaking right now! Am I shaking?”

Marinette just stared at her. “Alya, don’t you think you’re getting a little carried away? I mean class isn’t even over yet! Although, I think it’s pretty much guaranteed over for the rest of the day,” she added under her breath.

Alya had finished packing and stood up, quickly slinging on her bag. “Marinette, this is the _story_. The. Story. Don’t you understand? This is my chance to be promoted from boring little newsroom maid to upper-classmen, fully fledged, reporting queen.” She cast Marinette one last excited, pleading look. “I have to go follow the action. Sorry girl.” And with that she bounded down the auditorium aisleway and out the doors.

Marinette just stared after her friend. She blinked a few times.

_Ok. I think I’m gonna go back to my room now._

* * *

"_Negative emotions…this is perfect! Just what I need. _

_ “Anger…sadness…burn a hole into his heart, dearest evil akuma.  _

_ “Stoneheart, I am Hawkmoth.” _

* * *

_"Do you think they’ll be up to it, master?"_

** _"I only got it wrong once. It will not happen again. At least I hope not."_ **

* * *

** **

Marinette was sitting in her dorm, on her bed, when Alya facetimed her, and her life changed forever.

Not because of the facetime, obviously.

“Hey Alya what- “

“HOLY FUCKING MOTHER OF- MARINETTE ARE YOU SEEING THIS? ARE YOU FUCKING SEEING THIS? Fuck, I don’t even swear that- FUCK!!”

Marinette had no idea what was going on. Cell connection in the dorm was spotty at best, so Alya’s face was freezing and unfreezing into blurred various stages of shock, horror, and disbelief.

“OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD- “

“ALYA!” Marinette yelled at the phone. “What is going _on_? Switch the damn camera around, gosh.”

The connection finally seemed to sync up as the camera view swiveled. It was kind of blurry, and the phone was shaking, but it looked like…

“Is that a…rock monster? I mean that’s kind of a stupid name for it...”

“Uh fuck YEAH that’s a fucking rock monster!” Alya’s voice shrilled from off screen.

Marinette glared at the screen some more. The video was still freezing up every few seconds, but it seemed like “Rocky” was smashing cars in what Marinette guessed was supposed to be one of the big parking lots for students.

“Alya…” she began. 

“Are you seeing this? Tell me you are fucking _seeing_ this!”

Marinette frowned. “Alya, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to _be_ seeing.” She stopped then groaned. “Alya…are you _messing_ with me? Honestly, I- “

“I am not messing with you Marinette Dupain-Cheng! Why- AAHHH!!”

Marinette gasped as she saw a car being flung towards the camera. The screen turned dark, facing the ground. Heavy breathing.

“Oh my gosh! Ok I believe you now! Alya? Are you ok?” Marinette stared at the phone as if by glaring at it alone she could somehow help her friend.

Then she realized- _duh, go find her!_

“Alya! Alya tell me where you are!”

Alya’s voice was hushed when she replied. “Ok, I’m hiding behind this big-ass truck. I don’t think the rock…thing has noticed me yet. I’m in the parking lot behind the new engineering building.”

Marinette was scrambling out of bed and frantically searching for her shoes. “Ok! Ok! I am gonna come to you!

“Marinette!” Alya whispered.

“Uh-uh, nope! If you’re allowed to follow a monster around then I’m allowed to come rescue you from said monster!”

_Where did I put my sandals? Think! Think!_

“But that’s the _thing_!” Alya hissed. This monster- it’s _IVAN!"_

“What?!” Marinette stood stock still. She threw the phone up to her face, though it stayed dark of course. “Ok, normally I would say _what the fuck_ in an unusual bout of swearing, but Alya at this point I’ll believe _anything_.” She took a breath. “Ok, how did Ivan turn into Rocky?”

“Rocky?”

“Oh sorry, its what I’m calling him in my head. Anyway?”

“Yeah, so like, you are not going to believe this, but- “

“Alya! Rock monster!”

“Right, right. OK, so basically Ivan had just come out of the administration building. I had tried to ask some questions to the security officer, but he told me _no_, can you believe it?”

“Alya!”

“Sorry, right! Ok so I was kind of around, you know, not hovering or anything- “

“Surrre.”

“I wasn’t! Ok and so I overheard what was happening, and I guess that weed wasn’t Ivan’s after all! Crazy right? Well, they told him y’know, “sorry for the misunderstanding and basically treating you like a criminal for the last half hour, have a nice day” and Ivan just stormed out of there. Total rage fest. So, y’know, um…”

“Ha! You _followed_ him! Alya you are crazy!”

“Listen, I just thought, “Maybe he wants the student press to know the real side of things,” like his perspective, or whatever. But he was just stomping off from administration, and so I was like running to try and keep up- “

Marinette rolled her eyes. She watched as the phone screen lightened, showing the side of a truck bed and then a view of Rocky (_Ivan_, Marinette reminded herself, still in shock) who was merrily smashing through cars in the distance.

“He’s moved father away,” Alya said in a stealthy whisper.

“So, you followed him…?” Marinette prompted. She leaned against her bed, captivated by the footage of rock-monster-Ivan on her screen.

“Right, so I followed him, like all the way from administration to over here by new engineering, I think he was heading to one of those two dorms for upper-classmen? Anyways, and then he just stopped, so I stopped, and was thinking “ok, now is my chance to pounce!” and then I heard him mutter something and all I could see was his back, right? And then he _changed_.” Alya’s voice took on a tone of horrified excitement; that of a person so completely startled out of their version of normal, no room was left for disbelief.

“He changed into the rock monster.” Marinette finished. She frowned thoughtfully. “Ok, this is so SO strange. I don’t...Fine.” She stood up. “Alya, I’m coming to you. Don’t. Move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” whispered Alya.

Marinette still had no clue where her sandals were. And, well, she hadn’t exactly unpacked her box of other shoes yet…It was still basically summer, ok? She knocked her backpack aside to look under her bed.

But she was halted by a small wooden box that fell out.

_Well, I did not put **that** in my bag._

Marinette had no way of knowing how, or when, a strange looking box would have found its way into her backpack. She didn’t, _ahem_, go through the contents…often.

She leaned over and picked up the box.

She opened it up.

“EEK!” Marinette jumped backwards and threw the box across the room in an involuntary shock of revulsion. Something _red_ and _alive_ was in there!

And it was flying around her room!

Marinette yelped again and grabbed a pillow from her bed, hurling it in the general direction of the _thing_.

“Bug! Mouse! Bug-mouse!” She screamed, more for the feeling of getting it out of her system than anything else. She tried to slow her frantic breathing.

The thing buzzed up from under the pillow.

“Don’t be afraid, Marinette.” It said it a very squeaky, feminine voice.

Marinette didn’t move. She had pretty much used up all her energy for dealing with Weird As Shit Things™ today. But she still felt terrified.

“How-what-“ She stuttered. “You can talk!” she said accusingly.

“Of-course I can,” twittered the little red ball of weirdness. She (_I’m guessing it’s a girl?_) flew closer to Marinette, who saw upon closer inspection that it was more like a bug than a mouse.

_Obviously, since mice don’t fly._

_Well bugs should not be talking either! _

“My name is Tikki,” said the red ball, spreading her little arms _(It- she, has arms?) _“I am a kwami. If you give me a moment, I can explain everything. But we must move quickly.” She gave Marinette an imploring smile. “You are the only one who can stop Stoneheart.”

“Stoneheart?” Marinette’s brain hadn’t caught up with her mouth. She was just going to focus on the easy questions for now. Easy was good.

“Stoneheart,” Tikki repeated patiently, with that ridiculously sweet chirrup. “That is the akuma who is currently destroying all those cars where your friend Alya is. And that is why it is so important that you leave now and stop the akuma.”

_Akuma_. _Kwami_. _Right_.

“Ok…” Marinette’s brows creased. She rubbed her eyes furiously, then reopened them. Nope, Tikki was still there. So, she wasn’t dreaming.

_Bummer_.

_Ok. Ok._

“Ok,” Marinette said. She took a deep breath, then held up her hand. “One: Ivan turned into a monster. Who is apparently named Stoneheart? That’s number two. Three: the monster is called an akuma?” she looked to Tikki for confirmation.

Tikki gave a fast nod that shook her whole little body. It was very cute, Marinette thought, and giggled.

“What?” asked Tikki.

“Oh, nothing,” Marinette tried, mostly successful, to smother her laughing. “Ha- just, heehee- you know, all my major conceptions about the universe and reality- haha- being shattered in one afternoon.” She laughed again in despair. “Ahem.” She cleared her throat, then continued. “Four: I guess this is the most important…somehow _I’m_ the one who has to stop this akuma-thingy?”

Tikki nodded vigorously again. “Yes Marinette!”

“O-kay…Alright. So, um…how?” Marinette gestured to herself. “I mean, I am kind of flattered, you know, and excited, like “wow, I’m important and I need to save the day!” but also, I mean, I’m _me_,” she finished sadly.

“Not as you, Marinette!” Tikki took a breath, then continued with a deeper voice, like she was narrating a movie or play. “I am Tikki, the kwami who represents the miraculous of creation, symbolized by the ladybug, bestowing the user with special powers when they put on the miraculous jewels and say the transformation spell.”

“Oh…kay.” Marinette said again. “Wait! Where is your, uh, miraculous thing?”

“My miraculous earrings are still under those pillows, I believe,” Tikki pointed with a patient smile.

“Got it!” Marinette ran over to the corner, digging the pillows aside before retrieving the little box. She now noticed the intricate red markings that covered it.

Inside the box were a pair of earrings.

“So, these are the magic miraculous-thingies?” Marinette asked dubiously.

“Yes Marinette. Once you put them in, you say “spots on!” to transform into your superhero alter ego!”

“And then once I’m transformed, or whatever, how do I even stop this monster?”

Tikki quickly explained akuma purification, the “lucky charm” special power, and Marinette’s partner, who apparently was the holder of the “miraculous of destruction.”

Marinette nodded and put the earrings in. “Ok. I am _totally_ not ready for this, but if I’m the only one who can stop this Stoneheart and turn him back into Ivan…” she sighed. “Then let’s do this. So, um…spots on?”

She was immediately swept up in a swirl of red glowing light. When it dispersed, she was covered in a skintight red suit with black spots and a matching mask. A yoyo hung around her hip.

Marinette was once again grateful she’d brought a full-length mirror with her this year. She gave herself a once over. She knew time was of the essence…but she was nervous. She didn’t really want to do this, to have all this responsibility. So, she dawdled, subconsciously delaying the inevitable.

“Alright.” Marinette did a few quick bounces, took a deep breath, and finally shoved open her door. “Let’s do this!”

* * *

“What in the feckin heck?”

Adrien stared at his Facebook in astonishment.

It was a live feed, and it…it looked like a rock monster? The caption said something about Francois Dupont Uni, and this was apparently one of the school’s parking lots.

“Is this even real?” Adrien began reading some of the comments, a skeptical furrow between his eyebrows.

Most of the comments were asking the same thing he wondered. Was this a fake video?

**Surely there is no way this is real.**

A bit more reading confirmed it was one of the student parking lots, and it was all the way on the other side of campus too. Adrien didn’t appreciate this fact. He had only been resting in his room for about an hour since practice ended, but his curiosity was piqued.

He pulled himself out of his blanket and pillow cocoon, which despite his dorm’s air conditioning, was hot enough he’d had to ditch his shirt and shorts, a necessary sacrifice for the security of a pile of blankets.

Now he rummaged for a shirt among the pile of clothes that, he admitted, should probably be dealt with soon. **Who knows what could be hiding among there?**

Looking back, Adrien congratulated himself on his excellent prophesying abilities.

As he shoved a few more clothes away, out of the pile tumbled a little wooden box.

**Is that mine? **

Adrien was fairly certain that was not his box. But he picked it up anyways, admiring the Chinese patterns and craftmanship before cracking it open.

He watched in shock as a ball of green light shot out of the box, and faded into the form of a tiny, floating black cat.

“Are you a genie?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why that was the first thing to pop out of his mouth, but once he said it, he realized he wanted that desperately to be true.

**Man, I have so many things I could wish for right-**

“Don’t get your hopes up,” drawled the cat. He yawned. “Do you have anything to eat? I’m _staaaarving_!”

He swooped across the room, first under the desk, over the top of the bed, alighting on Nino’s lava lamp. “Mmm. Shiny! Can I eat it?” He licked gleefully.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” Adrien lunged for the little fiend. “More importantly, who are you?”

“Name’s Plagg. I’m a kwami, I grant special powers. Yours is the power of destruction. Got it?” the cat drawled, before rolling his eyes, and his entire body, into the pile of clothes. “Mmm, something smells _delicious_!”

“Wow. Ok.” Adrien rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How do I get those powers exactly?”

“Aw, why would you want to do that?” Plagg whined, popping up from the clothing pile holding a sock in his mouth.

“Hey! Stop that!” Adrien grabbed for the cat but missed and landed in his clothes.

**Oof…I do need to do laundry soon.**

Adrien sat up, sighed, rubbed a hand through his hair. “C’mon Plagg. Something tells me it is _really_ important that I become this destruction-superhero, and do it _right_ _now_. You and me, we gotta work together, ok? We’re supposed to be out there stopping that…thing, right?” Adrien scratched his head. “What is that, exactly?”

“You ask _way_ too many questions kiddo.” Plagg swooped over to the desk and then _dissolved_ into the drawer.

“Plagg!” Adrien hissed. He scrambled to his feet and opened the drawer. The kwami was sitting eating one of the Babybel cheeses Nino had bought a week ago, which were slowly growing unbearably pungent, Nino forgetting they lacked refrigeration capabilities in their room.

“That…is probably not good for you to eat,” Adrien said slowly. Plagg just hummed happily.

**That’s _it_.**

Adrien grabbed and this time he didn’t miss. He glared at the little black mistake. “You are going to tell me how to become a superhero, and then we are going to go defeat that monster, k?” He wrinkled his nose. “And then you can eat all the disgusting cheese you want.”

Plagg huffed dramatically. “_Fiiine_. No need to be pushy. Go put on that ring from the box.”

Adrien did.

“Ok, now all you need to say is “claws out.” And once you’re transformed, your pow-”

“Claws out!”

“Adri-AGH! - “

Adrien beamed in fascination as the kwami swooped into his ring and black leather engulfed his body.

“Wow.” Adrien looked at himself as well as he could, then pushed a hand in his hair. “Whoa! Ears!” He swiveled them experimentally. “That is…_so_ cool.”

He rubbed his face and noted with fascination his glasses had disappeared, replaced with a mask, but he could still see perfectly. **Magic**, he grinned.

He grabbed the baton that was slung on his hip. He spent a few seconds learning how to expand and compress it. He swiped up the top half to reveal a phone-like portal, with “apps” of a sort, one labeled instructions.

“Oh cool, I have a superpower called- “

**Oh, no if I say it out loud it activates. Better not do that then.**

Adrien grabbed his phone and checked the live feed. The monster was still out there, smashing cars, wreaking havoc.

Considering his baton, then his window, he reached over and shoved it open, before slinging himself out, and swooping across the ground like some kind of super charged pole jumper.

**Let’s go be a superhero!**

**...**

Adrien reached the student parking lot and alighted on top of the nearest building, the new engineering hall. He could see some students watching on the fringes, video-taping. The monster was yelling, fuming, but seemed content with taking his anger out on the metal.

**For now. **

**Time to _cat_-ch this villain. **

********Adrien grinned to himself. **Quite the punny guy I am.**

He tossed his baton ahead of him as he jumped off the roof, and it stretched between two of the light poles. He landed on top, and began walking back and forth.

“Hey, I think I’m getting the hang of this- “

At the last minute he saw the red shape speeding in his direction, and then he was colliding with a red and black polka-dotted body.

He ended up hanging face down, tangled in rope flush against another superhero. A girl superhero.

“Why hello there,” he smirked. “Nice of you to drop in.” He felt ridiculously cocky. Black leather could do that to a guy, he supposed.

He was very aware of their skintight suit pressed against his, and _wow_, Adrien would be lying if that didn’t feel entirely too good.

“I’m so sorry!” the girl blurted. Her face seemed to be almost as red as the red mask covering her eyes, though that could have been because they were hanging upside down.

“No apologies, purr-incess.” He flipped himself out of the ropes and the girl did the same.

“Oh my gosh. Are you _flirting_ with me?” She put her hands on her hips, giving him a glare that was probably supposed to be scolding, but honestly just looked adorable. Adrien couldn’t _not_ notice how her red and black spotted suit clung to her curves, or the way her shiny bangs and high ponytail framed her masked face.

Adrien crossed his arms, reminding himself he was _not_ blushing, and winked. “Maybe.”

She laughed. “Ok, whatever. I suppose we might have a slightly more pressing concern right now.” She gave him a once-over. “You must be the partner my kwami was telling me about. I’m…” she paused, and looked at herself. “Not very creative,” she muttered, before declaring, “I’m Ladybug. Miraculous of luck, or something. You?”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “We get superhero names? I mean, never-mind,” he added at her look. He thought a moment. “I’m…um…” He held his black clawed hands in front of him. “Chat Noir. Yeah. A pleasure to meet you, m’Lady.” He swooped into a ridiculous bow.

Ladybug looked at him. “…black cat? You know French?”

Feeling slightly panicked, Adrien shrugged, “Yeah, I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Lots of people, I’d think. But that’s cool. Ok. Nice to meet you, Chat.” Ladybug gave him a tentative smile.

Adrien- (**ahem, it’s Chat Noir, suckas**) felt his heart melt a little.

“Ready to go catch an akuma?”

“What?” Chat asked, confused.

“The akuma? His name’s Stoneheart? You know, that’s the monster that’s currently murdering cars over there?” Ladybug jabbed a finger at the rock-thing on the other end of the parking lot. She took, was that a yoyo? from her waist and flung it in Stoneheart’s direction. “Less talking, more fighting!” she yelled and flew away from Chat.

He followed suit, catching up to her quickly. “What’s the plan?” he called.

“We have to find the place where his akuma is hiding and break it! Then I do something, and purify or whatever, and um, I don’t exactly remember…” she yelled back, and trailed off.

“How about I distract him so you can do the…whatever it is you do!”

“Ok!”

Chat landed a few yards from Stoneheart. “Hey big guy!” He yelled up.

The monster stopped and stared at him with yellow eyes.

“Yeah, you! My name is Chat Noir, Rocky, and I’m about to be your worst nightmare!” Chat danced around, trying to keep the monster’s attention on him.

“MY. NAME. IS. STONEHEART.”

“Sorry, my bad, Mr. Stoneheart. How you feel about dancing with some flesh and blood for a chance?” Adrien shot at him, then dove out of the way of a huge fist slamming towards him. Stoneheart was strong, but that made him slow. Chat went under another fist and rammed his baton right at the monster’s stomach.

“Uh. Oh.”

Chat watched in horror as Stoneheart grew at least ten or more feet taller and wider.

“Chat Noir!” yelled Ladybug, as her sneak attack yoyo was swatted away like a bug.

“Sorry!” he winced. He had to dive and roll out of the way of another first coming his way.

He tried to keep Stoneheart’s gaze but as soon as Ladybug swung her yoyo again, she was rebuffed.

“This isn’t working!” she complained, landing next to him. They both moved around Stoneheart avoiding his attacks.

“What should we do?”

He watched as she flung herself atop one of the light poles in answer. He followed Ladybug up, and balanced on top of his baton next to the pole. “This isn’t working,” she said again, rubbing her face.

“We need a new plan,” agreed Chat. They both watched as Stoneheart bellowed, moving towards them, crunching through cars on the way. 

“When we hit him, he grows bigger…” mused Ladybug.

Chat nodded. He saw her looking at Stoneheart again. “Do you see his hands?”

“Yeah, I spent a pretty good time trying not to be squished like a bug by them,” Chat groused. “Oh, no offense.”

“Ha. What I mean is, look at his left fist. See how he never opens it?”

“Okay. Your point is…?”

“I think that’s where his akuma is hiding!”

Chat shrugged. “Ok, I have no idea what the hakuna matata is, but I trust you m’Lady.” He looked to the parking lot fringes again, and noticed with shock even more students had gathered. “Are those the students from the university newspaper?” he cried, pointing.

Ladybug smothered a groan. “I cannot _believe_ Aly-, uh, all these people!”

“This is gonna be across every news channel, before too long,” worried Chat.

“Which is why its important we get moving again, and defeat Stoneheart, fast.”

“Ladybug, look!” Chat pointed to Stoneheart, who had stopped destroying and now stood still, before throwing back his head with a deafening roar as a mass of _butterflies_ flew out of his mouth, thousands and thousands, a cloud as big as the monster himself, all black fluttering wings.

Ladybug and Chat watched in horror as Stoneheart toppled with a groan and the mass formed a _face_ which began to _speak_.

“Students of Francois Dupont, I am Hawkmoth. Listen carefully. Ladybug and Chat Noir, you must give me your miraculous, the ladybug earrings and black cat ring, _now_. You’ve already caused enough damage to this place today.”

“What?” scoffed Chat.

“Nice try,” said Ladybug, jumping off the pole and swinging her yoyo lazily. “But we know who the real bad guy is.”

She caught Chat’s eye before addressing the students gathered. “None of you would be in danger today if Hawkmoth hadn’t evilized this innocent student!” she pointed at the unconscious Stoneheart. “Now you listen to us, Hawkmoth.”

Ladybug paused, then continued, voice loud and certain. “We will not rest until _we_ find _you_, no matter how long it takes, and _we_ will take _your_ miraculous! Time to de-evilize!” Ladybug cried.

Chat watched in awe as she threw herself at the face of butterflies, yoyo cutting through the air too fast to track. She was like a mass of ladybugs herself, red blur that decimated the face until there was nothing left. Ladybug stopped, sweaty hair sticking to her cheeks in tendrils.

“Let me make this promise to you,” she addressed the crowd, voice still steady. “No matter who wants to harm you, Ladybug and Chat Noir will keep the students of FDU safe!” She raised her yoyo, and the mass of butterflies poured out, only now they were a beautiful, pure white.

The crowd of students cheered.

Chat Noir saw Ladybug standing there, chest heaving, eyes bright and smile confident. He was struck with how _beautiful_ she was, and it wasn’t the tight suit. He felt his heart ache with pride, with _longing_. The pain was sudden and surprising and he couldn’t stop his thoughts.

**I don’t know the person behind that mask.**

**But whoever that girl is…**

**I _love_ her_._**

His gaze was torn away with movement in his periphery.

“Ladybug!” He cried anxiously. “Look! I don’t think we’re done yet!”

She noticed the same thing as him. Stoneheart rising up once more, giving another massive bellow.

Chat ran the rest of the way to Ladybug’s side. “Guess that means it’s time to use our special powers?”

She smiled.

“Lucky Charm!”

From the rushing swirl of red light, a feather duster dropped into Ladybug’s hands.

“What the fuck?”

“Chat!” She looked from him, to Stoneheart, to the duster. “Ok, here’s the plan.” A few moments later Ladybug was launching him right towards Stoneheart and he was grabbed out of the air and held in the monster’s vise-like grip.

“Now!” he called.

Ladybug landed atop Stoneheart and began tickling his chin with the duster. (“We can’t hit him because then he just grows stronger, but if we could _tickle_ him…”)

Stoneheart couldn’t let go of Chat, and he couldn’t stop the tickling, so he did what they had hoped he would and opened his left hand to scratch frantically at Ladybug.

On cue Chat extended his baton, pushing himself from Stoneheart’s grasp in time to grab the rock that was falling from his left hand.

“Cataclysm!”

The rock disintegrated in his hand. A black butterfly fluttered out as he landed on the ground.

Ladybug bounded from the monster’s back, yoyo spinning.

“Time to de-evilize!”

As the purified white butterfly flapped away, Ladybug turned to Chat. “I guess now it’s time for my second power…apparently this will make everything go back to normal.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “Chat I don’t know if I…am I really the right person for all of this?” she asked quietly, a frown tugging at her lips.

“Hey.” He placed a hand on her shoulder and she looked at him in surprise. “You were given this miraculous, right?”

She nodded, reluctantly. “I guess so…that’s what my kwami said…”

“Right.” He gave her an encouragingly smile. “There is a reason you were chosen to be Ladybug. Don’t let your self-doubt keep you from being who you were meant to be.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Plus, from what I’ve seen so far, you’re already doing an amazing job.”

She smiled at him, a shy but real smile. “Thanks.”

He had to let his hand drop, sadly, as Ladybug looked down at the feather duster she was holding. It was her lucky charm, apparently, and so was the same color as her suit.

She took a deep breath, then threw it into the air, crying, “Miraculous Ladybug!”

It really was nothing short of magical…

_Miraculous_.

The waves of glowing red flew all around them, leaving behind mended cars and up-righted SUV’s, everything restored to the way it was before the attack. Stoneheart transformed back into a big dude Adrien didn’t recognize, though Ladybug must have, because she approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Ivan?” she said gently.

He groaned. “What…what happened? Where am I?” He slowly stood up, groaning again.

“You were akumatized,” Ladybug patted him. “But you’re safe now.”

He rubbed his head. “One minute, I remember being so angry. I-I picked up a rock…I was going to go smash the windshield of that guy Kim’s car. The one from class.” He looked more and more ashamed as he stood there, nervously picking at his nails, an odd look for such a big guy.

Ladybug smiled at him. “Hawkmoth used your negative emotions to turn you into a villain. But now you have a chance to go and change the situation for the better. This could be a new, fresh start for you.”

He nodded slowly, relief giving him the hint of a smile. Shoulders straightened. “Thank you, Ladybug,” he told her sincerely, before nodding again and heading away.

“No ‘thank you Chat Noir?’ I see how it is!” Chat crossed his arms in mock petulance.

“Ok, seriousl- “

“I’m joking!” Chat said quickly, and grinned at her with pride. “You were the real star out there today. It was very…im-purr-essive, purr-incess,” he finished with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She shoved him, laughing, then held out a fist. "Good work, partner."

Chat didn't hesitate before fist-bumping her. "Bien joué!" Hastily he added, "It's French, it means-"

"I know what it means. Well done to you too," Ladybug told him, smile curling the edges of her eyes.

A loud beep stole her attention. Her hands flew to her earrings. “I almost forgot! I have to go before I transform back!” Another loud beep and she pointed at Chat’s ring. “You need to as well! We can’t let anyone know our secret identities!”

Chat’s heart drooped. “But why not?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I-I don’t have time to explain! Just trust me!” Ladybug threw her yoyo and launched away from him. “Till next time Chat!”

Chat watched her fly across the campus buildings and out of sight.

**Till next time, Ladybug.**

He waved goodbye to the crowd of students and bounded away.


End file.
